


Lucky Charm

by ivyshort



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adriens pretty fucked up because of very obvious reasons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, adrien is doing his best, everyone knows hawkmoths identity and everyone is STRESSED, marinette is pretty fucked up from chat blanc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyshort/pseuds/ivyshort
Summary: He'd been more distant lately. Spent more and more time gazing out across the city and less time trying to impress her. Hardly any new puns. Just resigned duty and a brand new, even more reckless attitude. They'd found Hawkmoth a few months ago and he'd panicked. Frozen, six inches from the man's face, giving Mayura the time to swoop in and carry Gabriel Agreste to freedom. He hadn't forgiven himself, she could tell.She'd been so caught up in making sure Adrien was okay that she'd let her best friend slip through the cracks.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 18
Kudos: 253
Collections: Miraculous Ladybug and Cat/Chat Noir Reveal





	Lucky Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Write something not dripping in cliches? You must have me mistaken for an interesting writer.
> 
> This is technically in the same universe as the Luka/Chloe fics I've published, just years before while everyone is still a baby. I just got caught up on the mental image of Luka sitting there as Marinette ranted about Chat Noir and had to write it.

He’d died again today. 

It had happened the way it always did, with him throwing himself in front of an attack because she was too focused on trying to figure out her stupid lucky charm to pay attention to the life or death battle happening six feet from her nose. Usually, he just turned to stone, or got brainwashed, or disappeared from existence. 

This time, the amok had a sword.

There had been so much blood that it had left a trail as she’d pulled him away from the battle, clutching his chest together, watching it trickle in streams down her forearms. He’d laughed weakly as she’d set him down on a nearby rooftop, using the last of his strength to smile that dumb, quiet smile and wipe a tear off her cheek.

_“Sorry, my Lady.”_

Marinette hated him. Hated his blind faith, his unwavering devotion. She hated that quiet, peaceful smile and the absolute look of trust in his eyes. He was an idiot. A reckless, moronic idiot, and she swore to herself when she saw him again she’d kill him herself with her own two hands so he could never die on her again. 

His hand had dropped with a final, long, shuddering breath. _  
_ She’d never figured out what her lucky charm - a single red rose - was supposed to accomplish, because she’d just given the amok the beatdown of the century instead of trying to think of a plan. 

When she’d called for the cure she hadn’t even waited for the blood to disappear off her costume before sprinting back to where she’d left Chat. 

He hadn’t been there. 

“Marinette?” 

Luka’s concerned voice startled her out of her thoughts and back to the little cafe they were sitting in. 

“You okay?” 

_No._

“Yeah,” she said, offering a hurried smile to reassure him.

“You went catatonic there for a couple minutes. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” he asked gently, setting his menu down.

Marinette nodded. She definitely should have just cancelled on Luka, but she’d cancelled on him the last three times they were supposed to go out and Juleka had cornered her in the school hallway and threatened to tear her limb from limb if she ever stood her brother up again. 

She’d never been intimidated by Juleka before, but that had sure shaken her up. 

“Just thinking,” she offered lamely, snapping one of the hair ties on her wrist, “I was watching the footage from the sentimonster attack today before you came by.”

“I hear it was a nasty one,” he offered, “Are you okay watching that stuff? It can’t be good for your mental health.”

 _Can’t be any worse than living it._ She shrugged, still snapping her hair tie. Her hands still felt sticky with blood, “Chat Noir died today. He got stabbed in the chest by the sentimonster. Ladybug wasn’t paying attention, and he _died._ ”

She didn’t wait for Luka to respond before she continued, running her words together like they were an avalanche. 

“Why does he always do that? He’s such an idiot. She’s bound to fail eventually and then he’ll just be _dead_ and she’ll never be able to bring him back. It’s like he doesn’t even care, she’s talked about how much she hates when he does it and he just keeps doing it.”   
Luka nodded, brow furrowed, “I didn’t really have you pegged as a Ladybug fangirl.”

“I’m not!” she protested, waving her hands in front of her face, “Really, I’m not, I just think Chat Noir needs some lessons in respecting Ladybug’s decisions, y’know? Like she really definitely doesn’t want him sacrificing himself every fifteen minutes. And he just keeps doing it. Over and over. That’s gotta mess with her. I don’t see how it couldn’t mess with someone. How rude is that! They’re supposed to be partners, and he just dies ten minutes into every fight!” 

She pursed her lips, twisting the end of one of her pigtails, “Ladybug should really pay better attention during fights so he doesn’t have an opportunity to jump in front of her and be all stupid and self-sacrificing. Gotta get ahead of the problem.”

There was no stopping. She’d started, and the words kept coming up like vomit.

“Maybe she should bring one of those other superheroes in full time so Chat doesn’t have to take the brunt of the fighting like he always does. Who do you think would be best? Rena Rouge is cool and all but I don’t think it should be her. Illusions aren’t that useful in hand to hand combat. I think Carapace would probably be a good choice. The shield would be useful. But then what if Chat Noir just starts sacrificing himself for Carapace too? That would just backfire on her.”

Luka blinked, swimming a little in Marinette’s vision, and cleared his throat, “Uh… Sure.” 

“Chat Noir is just the worst,” she continued, “What would happen if Ladybug couldn’t fix everything and he just _stayed dead_ ? I don’t kno-We have no idea if they know each other’s identities! Would she have to live in this nightmare limbo, not knowing who her partner ever was? Just knowing there’s a hole in Paris somewhere? Or maybe they do know. And she’d have to go tell his _family_. I’m not sure which would be worse. God, who am I even kidding, she’d never get that far. If she was still alive, she’d still be fighting, right? Because she has to bring him back.”

Oh, shit. She was crying. _That’s_ why she couldn’t see straight.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Luka said gently, “They have to find Hawkmoth soon, right?”

She threw up her hands, smacking her menu halfway across the restaurant, “That’s another thing! How could they be so bad at tracking down Hawkmoth! We even know who it is now, and it’s been years! And it’s just the same thing, week after week! Ladybug can take down an akuma with a pencil eraser and a rubber duck if she wants to, but she can’t track _one guy_ who has some sort of dumb butterfly fetish? Ridiculous. She’s useless!” 

“Hey, Marinette, don’t be so harsh. I’m sure they’re doing their best.”

Marinette laughed, wiping away her tears, double checking her hands for the blood she still felt there, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. They’re doing their best.” 

He was looking at her, confused and concerned and sweet, but he just didn’t _get it._

Only one person would get it, and he’d disappeared from the rooftop he died on before she could crush herself against his beating heart. 

“I know Alya’s your best friend, but you don’t have to read everything she posts on the Ladyblog if it’s affecting you this much,” he said, because he had to speak to understand her. 

“No, no, I do,” she said, picking at a loose thread in her jacket’s hem, “It’s too important for me not to. What if there’s something she missed during the fight? Some clue that leads back to Mayura? Hints on where Hawkmoth could be hiding out? So Chat Noir never has to die again.” 

“Maybe Ladybug should just talk to him about it, so you don’t feel like you have to turn teen detective,” he offered.

Marinette stopped, _But I shouldn't have to_ sitting on her tongue, “I bet she has. Right. She has to have. You can see it on her face. In the videos. She hates it, he has to know that, and he does it anyway because he's an idiot cat with a martyr complex, and it’s just getting worse and worse."

"I think you might be reading too much into this. You can't know what she's feeling from watching a video." 

"It's obvious! It's right there, every time he takes a hit!" she ranted, tears back in her eyes, "I don't know how he doesn't see it!" 

Luka drummed lightly on the table, still looking bewildered, "Maybe since he's sacrificing himself, he never sees her face." 

She froze, and her stomach dropped through the floorboards and deep into the catacombs beneath Paris. He watched the videos of their fights. She knew he did, it was common for them to recap fights during patrol and discuss strategies together. 

"No, they must watch the footage together afterwards," she said slowly, "They're thorough." 

Luka shrugged again, finally flagging down a waitress, "I think it'd probably be uncomfortable to watch myself die. That's all," he said, and then refocused his attention to the waitress, very obviously regretting calling her over, "I'd love a cappuccino, please."

She smiled and turned to Marinette, still frozen, tears spilling over her cheeks in hot, fat streams, "Mademoiselle?" 

"How could he never tell me?" she whispered, choked up and miserable, willing herself to dry her tears but finding her hands were entirely intent on ripping up her napkin instead. 

"Pardon?" the waitress asked, a concern mirroring Luka's gracing her features, "Are you alright, Miss?" 

"She watched the fight earlier today," Luka said gently, handing Marinette another napkin, "She's shaken up about it. Maybe just some water for now?" 

The waitress nodded and retreated back to the happy buzz of the rest of the cafe. 

Marinette stared down at the new napkin in her hands, "He never talks to me. Stupid cat. Never says what's bothering him." 

"...Do you know him?" Luka asked, and Marinette felt herself nod more than she actively moved her head. Stupid. That was probably a mistake. She needed to get a grip on herself. 

But then, she hadn't seen him alive again today. She'd left him alone on that rooftop, a broken, bloody shell, seeping into the tile roof. She'd abandoned him again. 

A wave of dread washed over her. He'd been more distant lately. Spent more and more time gazing out across the city and less time trying to impress her. Hardly any new puns. Just resigned duty and a brand new reckless attitude. They'd found Hawkmoth a few months ago and he'd panicked. Frozen, six inches from the man's face, giving Mayura the time to swoop in and carry Gabriel Agreste to freedom. He hadn't forgiven himself, she could tell. 

Ice blue eyes flashed in her mind, framed by a snow white mask.

Is this what happened last time? 

"He's hurting," she mumbled, "He's been hurting and I haven't noticed. I've been so busy with my own petty little problems that I never noticed he's in pain."

She'd tried to focus all her attention on Adrien - abandoned by his only remaining parent, left to juggle the press and the business and try to finish Lycee. He was managing okay, but the spark was gone from his eyes and he barely smiled anymore. 

Her head snapped up, "I'm a terrible friend. He's always been there for me. I need to be there for him. I can't lose him. He's dumb and reckless and sweet and gentle and absolutely infuriating and I need to tell him that I care about him. No one appreciates him. Everyone's always up in arms about _Ladybug_ this and _Ladybug_ that and they're _partners,_ Luka. They need each other. She needs him."

He blinked back at her, dazed. 

"She needs him," she repeated, more firmly, willing him to understand. He nodded slowly, but she knew he didn't really get it. No one got it. 

Bloody pavement. 

Snow White.

Frost blue eyes. 

Her sweet kitty, staring up at her, wiping the tears off her cheeks, smiling sadly. 

"I need to see him," she said numbly, standing up just as the waitress came back with Luka's cappuccino, "I have to tell him."

They both stared back at her. 

She was crying again. She knew because the lump in her throat was back and her vision was blurry again but it didn't matter. She had to find him. 

Find him and tell him. 

No, find him and listen to him. 

Maybe just find him and hold him and feel his heart beat. 

"Marinette," Luka said softly, snapping her back to reality for a moment. 

She stopped in her tracks. Something in his voice told her this was Luka telling her goodbye. And really, it was better this way. For him to say goodbye, to be able to move on, because who was she kidding, she had a type and her type was blonde boys with green eyes and _terrible_ senses of humor.

"I'm sorry, Luka," she replied, "I'm--He--It's…complicated."

He smiled sadly, "I hope you find him." 

. 

She left him 23 messages before he finally swung into their normal meeting spot an hour later. 

Living. 

Breathing. 

Whole. 

"You _left_ ," she sobbed, clutching onto him tightly, ear pressed up against his chest as close as she could be. 

A little sheepish. 

"Sorry, Bug," he replied, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling his hose into her hair, "I was late for something in my civilian life, I didn't think you'd notice." 

She collapsed against him, legs giving out, and he guided both of them down to the ground, "How could-I always-you died and then you were gone, I was so worried-" 

"I'm sorry, Ladybug, I really am," he repeated, voice gentle and sweet. The sun was setting across Paris, bathing them in gentle golden light.

"Stop dying," she mumbled into his chest eventually as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

"No promises," he replied, stroking her hair gently, "You have to stay safe." 

"You're important too," she bit back. 

He only shrugged, and Marinette felt her heart crash through the floorboards. How _dare_ he think so little of himself. 

"You are," she insisted, pulling back to grab his chin and force him to meet her eyes, "You are so important, and I need you. I need you to be okay."

His shoulders relaxed as he breathed out, somewhere between an exhale and a sigh, and he smiled, soft and sweet and so entirely un-Chat-like, "Thanks, Bug." 

"You've been different lately," she said, "Something's wrong. You're sad and reckless and you haven't made a pun in weeks, Chaton. I know you're still blaming yourself for Hawkmoth getting away and it wasn't your fault." 

He pushed himself away and pressed his back up against the wall behind them, "It's nothing."

_Godforsaken infuriating self-sacrificing noble cat._

"It's not nothing. You're not _yourself."_

She pushed up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, and felt him breathe again. 

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems. You have enough on your plate.”

She shook her head, “Don’t you dare. I want to know.”

He sighed, twisting his ring nervously, his ears drooping low to match his head. Chat Noir just seemed _tired._ Tired and sad and empty. 

"It's a lot of things, I guess," he said, twisting his ring, "My father's disappeared again. He was never very good at paying attention to me in the first place, but now he's completely gone and I might never see him again and I don't know if I'm relieved or sad. I keep getting more and more hours at my job and I don't have any time to be with my friends. My cousin is in town again next week and he's a hard person to be around, and so is my aunt and she might be even worse."

She laced her fingers in with his, giving his hand a light squeeze, "I'm sorry." 

"I'm working on being okay," he said, "I promise. I won't freeze next time." 

Marinette nodded, looking up at him - when had he grown so much? 

"I really like this girl in my class," he whispered after another moment, and she knew this was the thing he was really worried about, "With everything else going on right now, it seems like the stupidest thing to worry about, but she's really been there for me for years and it's just been so nice. She told me once that she liked me, like Chat Noir me, so I thought maybe I had a chance once I figured all this shit out with my father. And I was just kind of holding out hope that maybe, if she liked Chat Noir once, she could like _me_ someday too. But she just started going on dates with another friend of ours, and now I know I blew my shot with her months ago, and it hurts a lot more than I ever expected it to." 

_Idiot girl_ , she thought, _passing up the incredible boy in front of her._

"I think I just broke up with the guy I was trying to date," she said softly in reply, "I've stood him up four times now because of everything and just by the way he said goodbye…I think it's over." 

"I'm sorry, Ladybug." 

It was her turn to shrug now, "It was wrong of me anyway. I was hoping since I knew _he_ liked me, I could learn how to like him back, and it was just a bad idea all around. I hope he finds someone who really appreciates him someday." 

He chuckled bitterly, resting his head on hers as the last rays of sunlight disappeared under the horizon, "What a pair we are."

"Tell me about the girl you like," she said, "She must be special." 

Marinette couldn't quite place why she had a nagging, deep set jealousy at some other girl capturing Chat Noir's heart. 

"She is," he smiled, "She was one of my first friends. Her favorite color is pink. She's kind, and brave, and she always stands up for what's right. And she's so talented! I wish I could make things like she does. I love watching her work. It's mesmerizing. When she's really focusing, she sticks out her tongue. She's so hardworking, too. And selfless. One of our other classmates went through a hard time recently, and she was the only person to give her a clean slate. I'm not sure if she'll ever know how much that meant to her, but I do. And I know she doesn't forgive lightly, but the fact that she was willing to… that was pretty incredible."

"She sounds wonderful, Kitty," Marinette said, fighting down the dragon within her roaring against that gentle look in his eye for someone else, "I wish she appreciated you." 

"She does!" he insisted, "And I cherish it! She's so important to me, LB, and she's so considerate. It'd break her heart to turn me down, so I never asked." 

"I know how you feel," she mumbled in reply, Adrien flashing in her mind. She was over him. Pretty sure. He'd been so broken lately, with his father vanishing into thin air - she'd wrestled a lot with whether or not to tell him it was because his father was Hawkmoth, and eventually decided against it, but it didn't mean she didn't go to bed every night wondering if she'd made a mistake. Adrien was a friend. 

And sure, she loved Chat Noir. As a friend. Her best friend. Her heart ached a little every time he smiled and she missed him every moment she wasn't with him. It was _good_ he was trying to move on - she was probably still in love with Adrien, all things considered, and then that whole thing with Luka was still going on too. He deserved someone to give his whole soul too. This girl could be a stepping stone to bigger and better things. Someone who really appreciated him, bad jokes and stupid affinity for cats and all. 

Someone like her. 

But not her. 

Because he was her friend. Her best friend. 

And she _couldn't_ be in love with Chat Noir. 

Blue eyes flickered in her mind again. 

She wondered what happened to that faraway world with the broken moon and the broken boy, the world where she'd turned to ash reaching out to comfort him one last time. 

She couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't be alone again. 

She loved him too much to let him ever be alone like that again. 

"Moving on sucks," he said quietly, jolting her out of her stupor, "Growing up sucks." 

She snorted, "You can say that again." 

He sighed, and she watched the melancholy misting in his eyes, wishing she could look at them without the lenses over them, just into the gentle green she knew they were underneath. 

He'd grown in the years they'd been partners, from boyish good looks to a more refined handsomeness, the curve in his jaw angling out and setting, shoulders broadening. His voice had changed, deeper now, and calmer. 

He'd been younger as Chat Blanc than he was now. 

Was the danger passed, then? Could she dare hope? 

Maybe it was better this girl didn't seem to want to give him the time of day. Maybe he wasn't entirely over Ladybug. 

She shook her head, trying to clear it of fantasies. A drop of rain fell on her head. 

"She gave me her lucky charm," he continued, speaking into the early evening instead of to her, "I take it with me everywhere, trying to counteract a little of my bad luck. I know it's stupid, but the day I found out she was going out with a different guy, I'd woken up late and forgotten it. It felt like maybe that was the only thing protecting me." 

He unzipped his pocket and pulled out a string of painfully familiar beads, showing them to her with a tiny, sad smile. 

Her world broke. 

"I know I shouldn't cling like this," he whispered, dragging his fingers over the beads, fixated on them, "That's what got me in trouble with you, and I swore I wouldn't do it again."

It was like she was watching the world through television static. It all came crashing in at once, his voice swimming in her ears. The rain came down harder. 

Oh, _no._

"What's her name, Minou?" she forced out, choked and trying desperately not to stutter, all too aware of her head on his shoulder and her charm in his hand. 

He pulled away gently, just far enough to look her in the eye, confused and questioning, "I shouldn't tell you. You're the one so worried about our identities."

"Please tell me," she managed, out of excuses, speaking around a tongue that seemed to just be dead weight in her mouth, "I just… I need to know." 

She had to know because it was Adrien making shitty cat puns at midnight. 

Adrien who'd sung his love for her all those years ago. 

It was Adrien throwing himself into every fight with his whole being. 

And still Adrien comforting a lost civilian after they'd been akumatized. 

It was Adrien who'd confessed to her one night when they were both feeling raw and burnt out and hopeless, that being Chat Noir was the only reprieve he had in his life, the brightest spot of joy in a carefully controlled existence.

Adrien had frozen in that fight with Hawkmoth, with his _father_ , because he had learned in that very moment that his father was the one terrorizing Paris. 

It was Adrien Agreste who sacrificed himself to save her and bled out on a rooftop not six hours ago with a sad, self-satisfied smile.

It was him, her kitty, her best friend.

The boy she'd fallen in love with. 

The boy she was in love with, the feeling crashing over her like a harsh wave, stinging like saltwater. 

He smiled sadly, cradling that charm in his hands like it was made of gold, wiping away the raindrops as they hit it, "Marinette. Her name is Marinette."

Nothing was working. Her arms wouldn't work - she wanted to pull him back in and embrace him, trace the line between his cheek and the mask and marvel at how she never noticed, never wondered. Her mouth wasn't working, either. Words stuck in the back of her throat, piling up over themselves and threatening to choke her. 

Just her eyes worked, swimming and locked onto his as he looked back, lost. 

"She doesn't deserve you," she whispered finally. She needed to talk to Tikki. She needed to kiss him. Or cry. Maybe all three, "She's blind and stubborn and never recognizes a good thing when it's right in front of her. And she's clumsy, too. She already dropped your heart and broke it twice, who's to say she won't do it again?" 

His brow furrowed. 

"Twice? I don't-" 

His words died in his throat, looking her in the eye, and she knew that he did. 

"W-wait here. I'll be right back."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly, lingering when he didn't pull away, but eventually pushing herself off the edge, turning to look at him as she swung away, hope etched into his features for the first time in months. 

Their normal meeting spot wasn't far from her home, just a block and a half. It wasn't enough time to think. To formulate. No time to plan. She dropped her transformation halfway through her trapdoor and made a beeline for her closet, pulling the clothes out of her way and onto the floor behind her, unearthing that lost little item on the bottom of her closet floor. 

This wasn't real. She'd wake up tomorrow and it would be a dream, sharp and hazy all at once. 

"Tikki?" she whispered through the tears, clutching onto her umbrella, with the lucky charm he'd given her on her wrist, "What do I do?" 

The tiny god smiled and kissed Marinette's forehead, "Maybe there’s nothing to do, Marinette." 

"He was hurting for so long, Tikki. Why didn't I ask sooner?" she choked, tears spilling back over the corners of her eyes, "Why am I so self centered?" 

"He told you himself. He's only really happy when he's Chat Noir. It was enough to mask his grief for a long time, to give him a sense of normalcy. Of course you didn’t notice - you were so worried about Adrien, you’ve barely noticed anything around you for months. That’s why he’s been throwing himself in front of every attack meant for you." 

She wiped the tears out of her eyes, "What if it happens again?" 

"What if it doesn't?" Tikki responded gently, "You're older now than you were then. So much has happened. Maybe the event that would have turned him into Chat Blanc has already come and passed." 

She stared down at her own charm, glinting in her lamplight, "Do you think so?" 

The little God nodded, "He needs someone who loves him right now. Plagg can only do so much." 

"Okay. I can do this. Spots on," Marinette choked, pulling herself back up her ladder and into the rain, relishing the cool droplets on her face, hooking her yoyo back to the same lamppost. 

He was still sitting there, now drenched, thumb still running over the beads in his charm, lost in thought. 

She came up behind him and opened the umbrella, watching as his back straightened and he turned slowly to face her, gently, as if she were an animal that would spook and flee.

"She doesn't deserve you," Marinette said shakily, "Her best friend was hurting for months and she never asked him what was wrong. She obsessed over a boy for years but never had the nerve to tell him how she felt, so she tried to date a different boy, tried to take advantage of his feelings and make them her own, but it didn't work. She’s selfish and self-centered and she is so, so, so sorry." 

He blinked slowly and stood up, and she had to angle the umbrella higher so he didn't hit his head.

“It didn’t work?” he asked, strained and desperate, defeat mixed with hope in a melancholy hum, “Why not?”

Marinette tried to swallow around the lump in her throat, but it got stuck halfway down. She was crying again. Thank god for the rain to mask it, "She's been falling in love with her partner for a year now, but she's been trying to ignore it, because it scared her so much."

They stood there, frozen and dripping wet, and he just stared at her like she'd sprouted wings and ascended to godhood. 

"Why was she afraid?" he asked eventually, braving a step forward, breath caught in his throat.

Her fingers tightened on the umbrella handle, "She thought she missed her chance." 

They shared the next breath, staring into each other's eyes, saying nothing and everything all at once. 

"Never," he said softly, reaching out with a hesitant hand and brushing her wet bangs out of her ears, "I could never be so lucky." 

"You're about due for some, Kitty," she replied, whispering again, "Spots off." 

How dare the world be so cruel to this boy, this sweet boy whose eyes lit up in wonder watching the bloom of light as she detransformed. Who could still smile so sweetly that her heart ached, even when his was broken and bleeding. 

He dropped his own transformation, and Marinette reached out to stroke his cheek and trace the line where his mask had just been, marveling at the similarity that she’d never let herself notice. 

“Hi, my Lady” he breathed, fingers lingering on her cheek, wonder and awe and comfort in his eyes for the first time in months.

“Hi, Kitty,” she said back, the words hanging in the air, neither of them moving.

"I love you," he blurted, rushing on the words so fast his tongue tripped over the spaces. His hand covered hers on the umbrella handle, and she felt the same jolt of electricity as when he'd passed it to her the day they'd met. 

Marinette closed the little distance left between them, tracing the line on his cheek where his mask sat, letting the umbrella fall to the side as she went up on her tiptoes to try to reach his lips (When the hell had he gotten so tall?). He leaned down to meet her, moving his arm to cup her waist, pressing his lips against hers in a long breath. 

She smiled when they broke apart, peppering his cheeks with kisses, making him giggle. She’d missed his laugh. There was so much more healing to do, but the sweet spark was back in his eyes.

“I love you too,” she said softly, bringing him down a little further to rest her forehead against his, ignoring the flaming blush on her cheeks, “I always have.” 

He was here, real and breathing, not cloaked in whit or bleeding out on the pavement. He was safe. Broken, but whole, healing. He was Adrien and for a perfect second, everything was right with the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> we call this "controlling what you can when everything feels out of control". adrien's in therapy, don't worry


End file.
